


For You, Things Seem to Turn Out Right

by foundbyjohndoe



Series: Bert's Birthday Oneshots [2]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, frank does theatre tech, gee just wants friends, not gonna tag as ship bc nothing happens they just r menaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundbyjohndoe/pseuds/foundbyjohndoe
Summary: Theatre techie Frank teams up with art nerd Gerard to pull the heist of the millennium.Title from What Do I Get by Buzzcocks
Relationships: Frank Iero & Gerard Way
Series: Bert's Birthday Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027575
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	For You, Things Seem to Turn Out Right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [I_BERT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_BERT/gifts).



Frank stares up at the flickering D24 light over center stage. He had replaced it’s bulb just a week ago, and yet Brian had nearly blown Frank’s eardrums yelling at him about the light over headset during today’s rehearsal. 

The actors had long gone home, but crew was still lurking in the auditorium, rigging mics, painting sets and, in Frank’s case, climbing ladders to fix lights that he was beginning to suspect were just fucking haunted. Or y'know, simply at the end of their natural lifespan. 

“Trying to blind ourselves?” Ray asks, walking past Frank with a box of wires. 

“Get me the ladder.” Frank replies without taking his eyes off the stuttering light. 

“Get it yourself.” Matt Cortez calls from somewhere in the wings.

Frank curses and tears himself away from center stage, stalking off towards the 24 ft ladder he knows is backstage. His bare feet slap the linoleum of the back hallway, and he drags his nails along the wall before rounding into one of the crew’s storage rooms. It's completely dark, so Frank slaps against the closest wall until he feels a switch dig into his palm.

The room flickers into visibility, all its wooded shelved glory bathed in a shitty bare-bulbed wash. Frank drops to the dusty floor to peer under the right wall’s shelves, looking for the bright safety-orange of the singular working 24 ft. ladder the tech crew still has.

It's not there.

Frank groans, lifts himself from the floor, and trudges back to the stage, not bothering to turn off the storeroom lights.

“Brian!” Franks yells in the direction of the tech booth, “The ladder isn’t in the storeroom!”

“Miss. Dana borrowed it to set up for the art show.” Brian’s voice calls back.

Frank slaps his hands to his face and screams into them. Matt’s pitchy giggles ripple through the curtains of the wings, and Frank glares in their direction. It's not like he hates Miss. Dana or anything, but he is down three missing assignments in her class and it's the end of the trimester. Walking into that art show is just asking for a painful parent-teacher conference. 

Still, Frank is loyal to his craft. He is the only techie with enough balls to walk barefoot backstage, let alone swing from the rigs to change a lightbulb. He’s gotta face his art teacher.  
* * *

Frank pads down the hallway, having chosen to remain barefoot past the border of the auditorium. He’s taking the long way to the gym, where the end of trimester art and science shows will be taking place. The plan, as of now, is to keep to the walls. Frank is small enough to not be noticed in the commotion of set-up, and all he has to do is locate the ladder and take it with enough purpose that no one stops him. 

Simple, really. Frank stops outside the gym’s doors, steeling himself. This was simple. He pushes the gym door open and slips inside, taking extra long strides away from the door in case anyone’s eyes were drawn to its movement. Frank surveys the room, taking in the rows of tables and booths. It was a shame he’d have to avoid this place like the plague after he gets the ladder, some of this stuff on the art side looks fucking cool.

Frank can see giant ceramic reliefs, small and deadly metalworks, as well as portraits of teachers and students that he almost recognizes. Most importantly, there’s a sprawling mosaic of ink splashed canvases on the far wall, all seemingly belonging to one girl, who is perched on the orange 24 ft, adjusting a high-up canvas.

Frank’s not too keen on causing this girl serious harm, so he tries to formulate a plan as he inches his way towards the far wall. He can’t call out to her, or Miss. Dana might notice him, so a diplomatic discussion is out of the question. 

Maybe he can lure her away? Throw a paint can in the opposite direction and wait for her to check out the noise before taking the ladder. That always seemed to work in video games. 

He’s close enough now to the girl that he can really appreciate her art. It's not ink like he thought, but thick paint that’s been carefully brushed to look like inked comic panels. It's impressive.

“It’s impressive, right?” someone says next to Frank, who chokes on his own tongue.

“Jesus!” He yelps, spinning around to come face to collarbone with an ink smudged boy with buzzed hair. 

“Frank, right? You, me, and Lindsey have art with Miss. Dana.” He gestures to the girl atop the ladder.

Frank looks up at the boy, trying to even out his breathing.

“Yeah … um …”

“Gerard.” The boy supplies, smiling kindly. Frank must look terrified.

“So,” Gerard says, seemingly oblivious to the glances Frank is giving Lindsey as she climbs down the 24’, “Where’s your stuff?”

“Where’s my what?” Frank scrunches his nose, eyes still fixed on Lindsey, who is walking away from the ladder. Now is his chance.

“Your art,” Gerard is saying, “cause we’re all supposed to be setting up, but this is the first I’ve seen of you-”

“Gerard,” Frank cuts him off, “Would you be like, the best, and help me out with something real quick?”

Gerard beams, seemingly uncaring that Frank interrupted him. 

“Of course!”

“Can you go talk to Miss. Dana so I can get this ladder out of here?”

A flicker of confusion crosses Gerard’s face, and he reaches up and runs his palm over his buzzed hair. 

“Do you uh .... need it for your set up?”

“Yeah.” Frank says, “In a way.”

Gerard giggles and nods, then turns heel and walks off towards Miss. Dana, who is chatting with a few underclassmen. 

Frank sighs in relief, turning towards the ladder. Its fucking huge, easily five times his height, but Frank is a strong mother fucker. He can do this. 

He pushes up the safety locks and starts pushing the two sides closed. It's becoming apparent that this is not something Frank should be attempting alone, but damn if he won't try. 

As the sides come together and start to lean towards Frank, he hears Gerard babbling to Miss. Dana.

“I just think that we should really count the work done in the play as an art credit, even if it's not acting. There’s a lot of artistic skill that goes into set design and lighting. Theatre itself is an art, right?”

Frank smiles. That boy might be chatty to all hell but he was really just a big puppy. Nice dude. 

The ladder pitches towards Frank, and he barely manages to catch it in his arms. His back is bent at a really weird angle to accommodate, and Frank realizes he’s going to have to drag the ladder if he wants to move it, because there is no way in hell he can carry it alone. So much for stealth. 

He’s psyching himself up for the inevitable scolding he’s gonna get from Miss. Dana when Lindsey’s voice calls out loudly from somewhere in the gym.

“Miss. Dana!” She yells, “Miss. Dana I can’t find my last painting!”

Miss. Dana mutters something to Gerard about continuing later, and makes her way over to Lindsey, who is, for some reason, over by the science side of the gym.

Gerard practically runs to Frank, lifting the ladder by its end.

“Go!” He whispers, grinning. 

Frank walks backward, towards the doors, as fast as he can. Before his back slams into the exit, he catches Lindsey’s eye. She winks. 

Frank should really stop skipping art if the kids are this cool.

* * *  
“Thank you.” Frank gasps in between heaving breaths, when they stop in the hallway. Gerard grins at him through his similar state of exertion. The two stay there for a minute, catching their breath. 

“Where do you need this?” Gerard asks.

“Auditorium.” Frank says, “Need to change a bulb.”

“Hey Frank.”

“Yeah?”

“How many-”

“-No, don’t even-”

“-How many teenage boys does it take to change a lightbulb?”

**Author's Note:**

> 2/5


End file.
